This blog, my life, and most everything I did in it used to revolve around running.
I would eat food based on my run for the day. I would look at the weather for the running conditions for not only that day, but for the week. Laundry was sweaty running clothes. Vacations were filled with runs in some of the loveliest beaches on the earth: Galveston, San Diego, China (yes, China). I've run on cruise ships in the middle of the Caribbean, run in the nastiest of winter and through lightening storms. In all, I ran 13 marathons in multiple cities including Boston, Chicago, New York, Detroit. I would often sleep in my running clothes, so that I could wake up and run first thing out of bed.
Running was the best way to detox my body and brain and let my spirit escape from this carcass, if but just for an hour or three.
Well, now I don't run at all.
A herniated disc from playing hockey has changed all of that. Now I often walk with a limp. I have seen a million doctors, a zillion physical therapists. Running ain't happening. I haven't given up, but my running life appears over.
23 years ago I gave up getting high off alcohol and drugs, and now I'm giving up getting high all over again. The Running High, however, was quite a bit healthier.
Self-pity is poison. For suckers. I hate it. Doesn't mean the whole thing hasn't torn me up and seem like a cruel joke played by a cold-hearted God. I wake up mornings and imagine that it will have magically fixed itself overnight. It hasn't.
Fuck.
Truth is, I am blessed with much, probably more than I deserve. I remind myself of that.
I've written a handful of running-based books. On the Lips of Children, that fine piece of running horror, was based on a true run I took at 4 am.
The other two running books are free this week:
*Chasing the Dragon: Running To Get High*
Marathon and running tips, and the role that running plays for recovering addicts and those looking for the high of the run
*The Jade Rabbit*
The story of a Chinese adoptee who runs marathons in order to deal with the stresses of her past and her job managing a shelter for runaway youth
Crazy thing is, I am starting to forget the person who wrote these books.